The Masters' Game Night -Tiddlywinks - a short story

The great masters gathered in a sunlit chamber atop a timeless peak, the weathered table between them adorned with steaming tea, ripe fruit, and those perplexing cookies that seemed to embody the mystery of existence itself. Buddha, Lao Tzu, Jesus, Yajnavalkya the Upanishads sage, Rumi, and Confucius settled in, their robes a patchwork of colors against the worn wood. The air buzzed with friendly camaraderie as they debated their next game. Lao Tzu raised a hand, his eyes gleaming with the inevitable mahjong suggestion, but Buddha chuckled, “Not again, old scroll-keeper, your tiles have haunted us for three meetings!” The table erupted in laughter.

Jesus grinned, nudging Lao Tzu. “Maybe if you shuffled with a little less Tao and a little more hustle, we’d let you win!” Lao Tzu retorted with a wink, “And you, carpenter-king, your poker face looks like a dove caught in a storm!” Confucius adjusted his sleeves, smirking, “At least my analects don’t flop like your Uno cards, Rumi, your poetry’s too busy dancing to count!” Rumi laughed, twirling an imaginary scarf, “Better a dancing fool than a sage who lectures the teapot, Confucius!” Yajnavalkya the Upanishads sage, ever serene, quipped, “Peace, all, your wisdom’s louder than a thousand chanting frogs!”

After the playful jabs, they settled on Tiddlywinks, its whimsy suiting their mood. Robes rustled as they flicked discs with surprising focus, weaving in nuggets of wisdom between moves. Buddha murmured, “Each flick is impermanence, enjoy the arc, not the landing.” Lao Tzu added, “The disc flows like water; resist, and it skips.” Jesus smiled, “Love guides the aim, even in play.” Rumi sang, “The wink is a verse, the table a page of the divine!” Confucius noted, “Harmony lies in the balance of flick and rest.” Yajnavalkya intoned, “The self sees itself in the disc’s spin, Atman in motion.”

Mid-game, a gentle knock interrupted. A young Buddhist acolyte slipped in, bowing low. Buddha tilted his head, inviting him to speak. “Honored ones,” the acolyte said, “I’ve solved the koan of the Original Face.” The masters paused, discs hovering. Buddha gestured for more. The acolyte ventured, “My Original Face is the genetic soup stirred by my great-grandparents. DNA strands swirling in a cosmic broth, older than the hills!” He beamed with pride.

Buddha’s smile warmed. “A rich soup, young one, but seek the cook beyond the ingredients. Go deeper into the silence that stirs it.” The acolyte bowed, retreating with a thoughtful frown.

As the door closed, Jesus leaned back, chuckling. “My Original Face? The one smacked by one hand clapping!” Laughter filled the room. Lao Tzu joined, “Mine chased the sound of one leaf falling in silence!” Yajnavalkya added, “Mine meditated on rain before the cloud!” Buddha quipped, “Then mine tripped over the Gateless Gate!”

Jesus proposed a second round, tying their answers to their paths with humor. Buddha grinned, “My Original Face is a polka-dotted jellyfish unicycling through samsara, teaching impermanence with every wobble!” Lao Tzu cackled, “Mine’s a disco-dancing turnip flowing with the Tao, serenading chaos with veggie vibes!” Jesus laughed, “Mine’s a chocolate fountain nose burping rainbows of divine love, melting hearts at the Last Supper!” Rumi twirled, “Mine’s a tap-dancing dervish spinning poems from a glitter-dusted soul!” Confucius smirked, “Mine’s a lecturing octopus juggling analects in a Confucian ink storm!” Yajnavalkya finished, “Mine’s a marshmallow-juggling Atman bathing in glittery Brahman bliss!”

The masters roared, discs scattering like cosmic dust. Wiping tears, Buddha raised a hand. “Such wild faces we wear! Yet seekers climb mountains of thought, seeking simplicity through tangled paths. The truest face is the quiet breath between our laughs, a wisdom hard-won in their journey.”

They resumed Tiddlywinks, the clicks of discs harmonizing with their lingering chuckles, a timeless reminder that wisdom blooms brightest in the soil of shared joy, lighthearted camaraderie and the simple truth beneath the madness.